Alcibiades J. Skinner

Alcibiades J. Skinner
Was a famous after-dinner
Speaker. Great the way
He secured, just by excelling
In the art of Story Telling,
One good meal a day.

Chestnuts more than often passé
He exchanged for Marrons Glacés,
Canvasback and Quail.
Flat the feast and dull the dinner
Lacking that accomplished Spinner
Of Postprandial Tale.

Every mail brought invitations:
Teas and luncheons and collations,
Dinners without end.
No one to a Formal Function
Such impressiveness, such unction,
Such éclat could lend.

At that gruesomest of gruesome
Rites, The Banquet tendered to some
Literary Light,
None could say with such conviction,
“We have Snooks of Snappy Fiction
In our midst To-night.”

How he said it made no matter;
Shaft of Wit or Broadway Patter
Meets with like acclaim.
Latest Mot or Jest Historic,
To the dinner guest plethoric
It is all the same.

When he said, “This moment finds me
Unprepared,” or, “That reminds me,”
There would be a hum
Of expectance, or a rippling
As though Daniel (or Kipling)
Had to Judgment come.

Alas for Fame! As A. J. Skinner
Put it at the Author’s Dinner,
“Fame’s a fickle Jade!”
Had he then an intimation
That his own wide reputation
Was ere long to fade?

From that day his after-dinner
Stories thinner grew and thinner.
Sorry was his case.
Rare the dinner invitation,
Rarer still the lunch—Starvation
Stared him in the face.

One day as his eye was wandering
O’er a map, he fell to pondering:
“If I cross the Main,
Somewhere ’twixt the Poles and Tropics
I may find some brand new Topics
For my food campaign!”

So one Friday A. J. Skinner
Bought a passage and an “Inner”
On a sailing ship;
Not for sport or relaxation,
Not for rest or recreation—
’Twas a business trip.

Fatal trip, had he but known it!
Or a Fortune Teller shown it
Written on his palm!—
How one morning bright and sunny,
With a breeze as soft as honey,
And a sea as calm—

Somewhere in the South Pacific
There would spring up a terrific
Tropical typhoon—
Smite their helpless ship and bear it
On a mountain wave and tear it
Like a Toy Balloon.

Luckily for Mr. Skinner,
When she sank he was not in her.
Clinging to a Spar,
Being, too, an expert swimmer,
Soon he saw the breakers’ glimmer
On a sandy bar.

Lucky, did I say? Appalling
Choice of words! Would you when crawling
Up a Sandbank gritty,
On firm land a foothold winning,
Call it luck to meet a grinning
Cannibal Committee?

Well, to make a long narration
Shorter (by abbreviation),
Soon as he was sighted
Alcibiades J. Skinner
To a most select Shore Dinner
Was at once invited.

Never had the South Pacific
Witnessed such a beatific
Banquet as was here.
Never was such mirth unbounded
As when that far beach resounded
With unwonted cheer.
* * * * *
Epicures on South Sea beaches
Waste no time on Toasts and Speeches;
Happy dreams had they.
In their midst was A. J. Skinner,
Most nutritious After-Dinner
Speaker of his day.